


Melting Point

by StarryKnightStudio



Series: Unders Our Flippers [1]
Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Angst and Feels, Autism, Autistic Skwisgaar, Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Hallucinations, Insomnia, M/M, Meltdown, Nightmares, Post-Doomstar Requiem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 21:53:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4581471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryKnightStudio/pseuds/StarryKnightStudio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his rescue from captivity, Toki is plagued by hypnagogic hallucinations and nightmares. When Skwisgaar comes to his rescue, it turns out that Toki isn't the only one in need of comforting.</p><p>Post-Doomstar</p>
            </blockquote>





	Melting Point

Magnus was alive.

Or, at least, that’s how it seemed to Toki when he awoke that night in a frenzy of sweat, shakes, and a drumming heart.

In one panicked motion, he kicked off the blanket of his undersized twin bed and lept to his feet. His eyes were glazed with sleep, but his mind and body were all too alert.

There, across the dark room, loomed his captor; Magnus, back from the dead, had somehow managed to break into the heavily guarded Mordhaus. Toki's breath hitched and he whimpered as the man sneered at him. His eyes darted to the spectre's side, where he could barely make out a dagger poised to attack. A slow, familiar pain crept its way into Toki's left side.

The next thing he knew, he had already darted into the low light of the hallway.

The brunet braced the wall with one hand and held his erratically beating heart with the other. His muscular frame wracked with tremors, and he was convinced he would drop right there if Magnus didn't get him first.

Bravely, he turned his head to peek back into the blackness of his room.

Everything was still. The silence was only broken by Toki's labored breathing and his heart raging against his chest. It was clear no one other than him had been in that room all night, or any other night for that matter.

Despite the calm of his surroundings, it felt to Toki unbearably loud. He slid to his knees in defeat, right there on the cold stone floor. Beads of nervous sweat dripped off of him as he shakily maneuvered his knees against his chest before tightly wrapping his arms around them. He laid his clammy cheek against his knee and focused on trying to catch his breath. After a while, his breathing slowed, but it wasn't long until he could feel the hot sting of tears welling in his eyes.

~*~ 

Skwisgaar glared at the high ceiling of his cavernous bedroom.

He could tell tonight would be no different from any other night. Why did he delude himself every time he laid down that he’d actually succeed in falling asleep? It's not like he'd been able to in months.

He wasn't sure if Toki's rescue did anything for his nerves, or only made them worse. Certainly, he was more than relieved to have the rhythm guitarist back, safe and sound at Mordhaus; however, unlike he had previously anticipated, that fact did nothing for his overwhelming stress.

The Swede really wasn't sure what he expected to happen. Was he actually so ludicrous as to think everything would be fine the moment Toki returned home?

Skwisgaar had apologized, profusely even. In fact, it was all he could manage to say when he finally had the younger man secure in his arms. He remembered how light Toki was. How fragile, weak, and cold. How quickly he could feel the normally spirited man fade in his grasp. He thought for sure he would lose him in that moment, and that thought made Skwisgaar more terrified than anything had ever before.

Yes, it wasn't until well after Toki was stabilized in Mordhaus' ICU before Skwisgaar could do anything _but_ apologize.

But, he of all people knew that apologies, no matter how sincere, meant absolutely jack-shit, if his mother was any indication. And just like everything else, he was turning out no different.

Skwisgaar rolled over and buried his face into the pillow as he let out a groan of frustration.

It was no secret that he harbored all of the blame for Toki’s kidnapping. The various things he could have done, _should_ have done, plagued him constantly.

If only he’d told Toki about Magnus.

If only he’d kept him _away_ from Magnus.

If only he’d sat next to him at Roy’s funeral.

If only he’d kept a closer eye on him.

If only he’d kept Dethklok _a one guitar band_.

If only he’d--

He groaned harder as to cut himself off from the thoughts, knowing he’d absolutely be up until morning if he continued down that path. He scrunched his eyes shut tightly in opposition to his own musings and tried to force himself to sleep.

A few tosses, turns, and grumbling curses later, he decided the effort was in vain, and gathered himself to his feet. After covering his bare body in a robe and donning a pair of slippers, he dragged himself out of the room.

Getting up and wandering the halls of Mordhaus had become a habit of Skwisgaar’s as of late. However, without meaning to, he always ended up lingering outside of Toki's door. It had started as a brief check - just to make sure the younger guitarist was sleeping all right.

Not too many nights in, he discovered the other was having chronic, raging nightmares. Skwisgaar took it upon himself to go inside and soothe him until the writhing and whining ceased, and the man could sleep soundly. He lost count of the nights he spent doing this, and slowly but surely found himself sticking around until the sun began to rise.

He did this for Toki's sake. Or so he told himself.

However, as the blond rounded the corner, he discovered his nightly routine wasn’t going to be so routine tonight.

“Toki? What ams you doing in de hallways?” Skwisgaar hovered over the smaller man, unsure of what to do. Toki let out a gentle, surprised hiccup, and turned to look at the other.

The Norwegian’s eyes were bright red, and streaks of dried tears stained his face. His cheeks appeared gaunt and the recent bags that never seemed to fade hung under his lids - though Skwisgaar couldn’t be sure if that was him seeing things or not.

"Ohs, Skwisgaar," He said quietly, his eyes darting away as soon as they made contact with the other's. "I, uhs...was just-"

"Yous was cryings." The statement was matter of fact, with no room for the brunet to argue. Toki looked up, their eyes meeting briefly again before he looked away shamefully.

"...Ja..."

The silence was palpable for a few seconds, before the taller man outstretched his hand for the other,

"Comes. Is cold in de hallways. Yous tell me whats happened, ja?"

Toki eyed the hand warily, his face a mix of exhaustion and shame. Regardless, he took the calloused hand and was lifted to his feet with little effort on his own part. Without another word, and to Toki's surprise, the Swede led him back around the corner and toward his own bedroom.

~*~ 

The last thing Toki wanted to do was talk, but it had been so long since he'd seen the familiar, stark white bedroom of his fellow guitarist. He couldn't say he didn't feel some relief as he walked through the door, and for the moment, the expansive space felt more cozy and safe than his own minuscule room.

He followed the older man to his bed, where they sat incredibly still for a while. Skwisgaar gave Toki his space, and took up plucking aimlessly at his Thunderhorse in the silence. This helped put Toki more at ease, who traced circles with his thumbs into the soft fur of the blanket he sat on. The material felt good on his fingers, and he found his mind wandering back to the last times he was in this room, on that blanket; their bodies working in the same perfect synchronization that they did on the stage. It felt both very near, yet distant at the same time, and Toki wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

He stopped rubbing the material, and held himself tightly as the reason he was there that night in the first place rushed back to the forefront of his mind. All at once, he felt lightheaded, unsure, and queasy. He was in much better shape being in this room, with this person; still, though, he had to focus on not losing his composure. His eyes flickered around, looking for anything to help quiet his mind again.

_Pluck pluck pluck._

His eyes fell on the tall Swede, flicking at his guitar with no apparent meaning.

_Pluck pluck pluck._

He looked up to Skwisgaar’s lean, angular face. His lips were pursed in their usual fashion when he played like this, and his eyes stared at a point Toki couldn’t see.

_Pluck pluck pluck._

His eyes, though as deeply set into his head as they were, seemed much more sunken than in Toki’s memory. Dark circles sat underneath them, and his frown lines seemed ever more defined, making the Norwegian wonder what the older man had been preoccupied with in the past months.

_Pluck pluck pluck._

He could feel himself calming down as the white noise of Skwisgaar’s guitar filled his mind. He stared vacantly at those practiced fingers, losing himself in their mesmerizing pattern.

“Heys. What ams whats goings through your mind?”

Toki snapped out of his sleepy trance and looked down at his lap. He began to circle his thumbs around as he tried to respond in the most coherent way possible.

“I...don’ts really have nothing on my mind right nows, Skwisgaar.”

Skwisgaar placed his guitar to the side, and rested his elbows on his knees as he held his hands together between them. He looked down as he spoke,

“Dens...whats weres you cryings about in de hallways back dere?” He looked back up at Toki as he continued, “Why was you evens in de hallway anyways?” He spoke in his usual monotone fashion, but Toki could pick up the slightest hint of concern at the end of his sentence.

However, the problem of not wanting to talk reared its head again as Toki struggled to answer his friend. What _could_ he say? That he was hallucinating Dethklok’s former guitarist in his bedroom on a nightly basis? Skwisgaar would either tell him he was crazy, or that he needed to get over himself. Either way, he would be right.

Toki’s thumbs raced around each other.

“Looks, Toki,” Skwisgaar began as he stared directly into Toki’s eyes, “I knows you ams goings through a lots of craps, but...de guys aments arounds right now.” Toki looked back at Skwisgaar, who continued without breaking their eye contact, “Dis ams Skwisgaar, not Dethklok. You can tells me anytings.”

Toki looked over Skwisgaar carefully, and could see the sincerity in the older man’s eyes. The fact that he was even keeping eye contact this long was proof of that enough.

Skwisgaar was right. This was him, and Toki knew better than to think he would judge him for something like this. He repeated that fact to himself as he took in a faltering breath and gathered his resolve as much as he could manage,

“Toki...ams seeing Magnus. Seeings him in...my room,” The brunet’s words were shaky as he spoke, and he refused to look up at the other man. “He...he wants to stabs me again, Skwisgaar. S-sometimes, he jumps at me,” Toki gripped his wound as he quickly began to lose his weakly gathered composure, “T-Toki aments sure if he’s dreaming or not, I thinks it’s real when it’s happenings,” The younger man could feel his body shuddering with the fear of his hallucinations, and he had to focus all of his strength and concentration on not breaking down at that moment.

There was silence for a while as Skwisgaar digested the information as best as he could. The Swede panicked, worrying that his nightly visits had somehow caused these terrors that plagued the young man. That _he_ was the Magnus of Toki’s nightmares.

He forced himself to cut these thoughts as soon as they started. He’d seen how Toki relaxed once he sat with him, stroked his hair, and quietly shushed the whimpers and cries that resulted from his horrors. He knew he wasn’t the culprit.

“Toki...yous...ams having halluskinashkins?” He wanted to kick himself for such a stupid question, but it was the only thing he could think to say.

“Yeahs…,” was all Toki could muster while holding his head in his hands and digging his fingers into his hair. He kept telling himself not be be afraid, to trust in the other Scandinavian; however, once again, the quiet was proving to be deafening. As the long seconds passed, Toki buried his nails deeper into his scalp and bit down furiously on his bottom lip.

A deep, weighty sigh was the first thing to break the thick, seemingly endless silence.

“I’s, uh...ams...sorrys. Toki.”

Toki’s grip on his skull loosened as he opened his eyes and lifted his head. It, too, took him a moment to fully comprehend the other’s words, but when he did, he was only confused.

The last time Skwisgaar had apologized to him was after his awful panic attack on stage in Norway, right outside of his birthplace. The blond had been morose for a while after that, and the entire band could feel it. He had been convinced that the youngest member was really having a heart attack, and it was obvious he blamed himself for the entire ordeal. When he could finally manage the words, Toki was sure his friend was going to start crying. There were clearly far too many unspoken emotions balled up in that beanpole of a man, and that apology was just the tip of the iceberg.

Regardless, while Toki didn’t agree with the blame being entirely on Skwisgaar’s shoulders, he felt entitled to that apology and couldn’t say he didn’t feel better afterwards. After all, it was almost shocking when his fellow guitarist apologized to anyone, let alone Toki. To him, for as as hard as it was for Nathan to say he was sorry, sometimes it felt like it was even harder for Skwisgaar.

When Toki finally looked at Skwisgaar to respond, he saw the man had since taken to staring rather intently at his hands, concentrating on them like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

“Skwisgaar? Yous is...sorrys?” He continued to stare at his hands in the same manner,

“...Ja. I ams.”

“Whys? It...aments your fault I’s having halluskinations.” Skwisgaar’s mouth fell open, just the slightest bit, and it appeared to Toki like he’d snapped out of his intense deliberation with his hands. Instantaneously, he whipped his head around to face the Norwegian. His eyes were suddenly wide, fearful, and unfocused, with his brow knitted tightly above them.

“YES IT AMS MY FAULTS! IT AMS _ALLS_ MY FAULTS! EVERYTINGS!" Spittle flew from his lips and he felt the dire need to crawl into a hole with nothing but his guitar and twenty or so packs of strings. The amount of emotions and thoughts bombarding his body and mind were too much, and he wished Toki would just inherently understand. It's not like he hadn't already apologized a million and more times to the younger man.

In another abrupt motion, Skwisgaar buried his eyes into the balls of his hands and clenched his teeth,

"Don’ts you gets it, Toki?! I ams a dicks...to yous! Dats all whats I have beens! And you knows it!” The Swede could feel gallons of words bubbling at his lips, ready to spill at any moment. Words that had been bearing on his conscious for nearly a year now, and maybe even longer if he stopped to analyze. He desperately wanted to hold them in, keep the both of them safe from the onslaught; he couldn’t be sure if either of them needed to hear it, or if they’d be better off without.

“But, Skwisgaars,” Toki feebly cut in, working his hardest to gather a smile on his face despite the fact that Skwisgaar’s gaze was planted firmly on the skin of his hands, “Yous already apologize to Toki, remembers? And we played de Blazing Star solos together, ja?” He looked down now, still trying to hold the smile on his face, weak as it may be. His thumbs began to twirl again, “Plus, you aments the ones what makes me halluskinate. Magnus is--”

“Nos, Tokis! NO! No, dats not rights!” Skwisgaar turned again to Toki; his eyes were red and riddled with veins, and Toki wasn’t sure if that was from the intense pressure he had been putting on them, or if the lead guitarist was about to cry. “Yous gots kidnapped because of me! I knews whats Magnus what ams campskables of, whats wif de stabbings and de revenge!” He balled the blanket tightly in his fists and sneered, “If I’s hadnt’s lets you in de bands, you woulds have beens much betters off!” He seethed, taking in sharp, hasty breaths and glaring in Toki’s general direction.

Toki was taken aback. He felt nothing but confusion, with the conversation having gone in a completely different direction from where he'd expected. The Norwegian had rarely seen his fellow band member in such a state, and the few times he had, the other had holed away in his room, only to return quietly hours later with bloodied fingers and his guitar.

“Skwisgaar, I don’t understands whats you mean. Why ams you saying dese things? Why is you ams so upset at-”

“BECAUSE I CARES! ABOUT YOUS!” Skwisgaar barked, slamming his hands down on the bed so hard that it jostled the other man. “I’s cares about yous, and I could haves prevented everytings!” The glistening of tears springing to the Swede’s eyes caught Toki’s attention, and he suddenly felt powerless and scared. “De stabbings, and de kidnappings, and de fuckings halluskinashkins!” The tears broke free and began to drip down his angled cheeks. “I’m sorrys, Toki! I’m sorrys!” His breath hitched, and the tears began to stream faster, “ I’m sorrys, I’m sorrys, I’m sorrys!”

He couldn’t stop, even if he wanted to. The apologies just kept coming, and coming, and coming. They flowed as fast as his tears, until he was sobbing so hard he couldn’t even make words. The fastest guitarist in the world sat there, in a puddle of his own tears, bawling and convulsing and breaking down to the point where Toki considered calling Twinkletits in the vain of doing _anything_ to help the other man. In all actuality, the younger man was terrified as he watched his support system crumble before him, and he was at a loss of what to do.

He couldn’t understand what had gotten them to that point. Wasn’t _he_ the one that was supposed to be the mess? _He_ was the one that was kidnapped, _he_ was the one that had almost died. _He_ was the one that couldn’t sleep--

His eyes widened as a realization came crashing down on him.

The reason Skwisgaar had been in the hallway, the reason he looked so worn and drawn, the reason he’d been more reclusive than ever before since Toki’s return.

This wasn’t _just_ about him, and this wasn’t _just_ about Skwisgaar. This was about _them_.

Skwisgaar had been supporting him all along. Skwisgaar had been lost without him.

It was time for him to do some of the supporting.

Toki flung himself at the wreck of the man beside him and held on. He held on, and buried himself into Skwisgaar’s chest, squinting his eyes shut and focusing all of his attention into the hug. His head shook and jumped with the older man’s heaving chest and shaking body, but he didn’t let go.

“Coulds...coulds yous may-maybes...holds me a l-littles...t-tighters?” His voice trembled, and his breath was shallow and rapid. Toki's brow furrowed with emotion and concentration as he squeezed Skwisgaar as hard as he figured he could without hurting him or blocking off his flow of oxygen. He felt like he wanted to cry, and let out just as much emotion as Skwisgaar, but he held it back. He needed to be strong for his lead guitarist.

They stayed that way for a very long time. Toki took to listening closely to the taller man's erratic heartbeat while he rubbed his back in a soothing, rhythmic fashion. He felt relieved as, slowly but surely, the other's breathing calmed, his heart returned to a regular beat, and the tears ceased falling. Skwisgaar sluggishly laid his head down on Toki’s, the first movement he’d made since his meltdown started. He breathed evenly, simply trying to take in the scent of the brunet’s hair to level his temper.

“Heys...Skwisgaar?” Toki asked gently after they spent a few more moments in the silence. He didn’t respond, but the Norwegian knew he was listening. “ I cares about yous too. And…,” He trailed off, thinking about his next words. Carefully, he shifted out from under the other. Skwisgaar didn’t react, and stayed exactly where he was. Toki could see that his hair was a mess; the blond locks were stringy and tangled, and stuck to dried tears on his face. He continued to speak as he began gingerly cleaning up Skwisgaar’s disheveled head with the collar of his own shirt, “Ands, you aments a dicks to me. Yous de one whats kept me goings when I was trapped.” He could see the Swede’s face again, now clear of his wavy hair. Skwisgaar’s eyes were unfocused and his lips slightly parted as he concentrated on both his breathing, and Toki’s voice. The younger man now noticed that in the wake of all the excitement, Skwisgaar’s robe had begun to fall off of his shoulder, exposing it and his upper torso to the chilly night air. He took it upon himself to fix that, too, as he kept on, “I don’ts blames you for nothings, Skwisgaar. So...please,” Robe now in order, Toki lifted the other’s chin to face him. He looked directly into the taller man’s eyes, “Don’ts blames yourself.”

Skwisgaar still didn’t respond, but briefly made contact with Toki’s eyes as an acknowledgment, before lethargically laying his forehead down on the other's shoulder. Toki brought him in again for an embrace as he finished speaking, “I appreciate whats you dids for me tonight. I thinks I can sleeps better, if you ams okay now too.” No response, as expected. The brunet started to rise from the bed, but didn’t make it very far before a hand weakly grabbed at the fabric of his tear-stained shirt.

“...Nos. Stays here. Yous sleep betters,” Skwisgaar mumbled in a rough voice without looking up. Toki paused and turned to look at the other, contemplating what he should do. After a moment, he let out a contented sigh, and said,

“Ja. I do dat.” Skwisgaar sluggishly stood, and shuffled listlessly around to the right side of the bed, haphazardly discarding his robe as he went. He dropped himself down onto it, and rolled into the blanket with as minimal an effort as possible. Toki, unfazed by the tall man’s nudity, crawled in beside him, and nestled into the pillow that waited for him.

The guitarists snuggled close to one another, and sleep took them rather quickly. Without nightmares, hallucinations, fears, or regrets, the two slept soundly together for the first time in ages as the sun rose on the horizon.


End file.
